We've lived in Louisiana a few weeks and two years now. Hard to believe it's been that long. The thing is, I still feel like the new kid in town. I'm still discovering new treasures, hearing new phrases, listening to new music, tasting new foods, exploring new places, marveling at this fascinating culture. I'm still not used to the heat and humidity of summer, or the bugs, though even the natives complain about those things. Makes me wonder if I'll ever feel truly at home here. Or will I always feel like a transplant? Will "home" always be Pittsburgh?
If there's anything that makes Louisiana feel like home, it's the people; the amazing friends we've made here. There's no doubt that these wonderful people have made us feel welcome and loved.
Eric has been home from the hospital for two months and a day now. He's made incredible strides in his recovery, by far exceeding our expectations. He's gained 18 pounds so far. And he's progressing quickly in physical therapy. Yesterday at church, he took the 22 stairs up to fellowship hall two by two, without any oxygen. All this, and yet, it's difficult for Eric to appreciate these achievements. It's frustrating for a fourteen year old boy who's tired of using O2 and feeling short of breath with a fraction of the activity he could do prior to his illness. He just wants to be better. Back to normal. Now. And we have no idea how long this recovery ultimately will take and to what degree Eric will fully recover. What lessons we're all learning . . . patience, acceptance, gratitude, the value of prayer, hope, and faith. Thank you all for joining us on this journey.
We're headed to the library this evening to find books, audio books, and videos for the long car ride to Mo Ranch this Thursday and the return on Sunday. Also at the library, the boys are taking a comic book art class for teens.
Eric's post-workout Sonic snack . . . corndog and a Powerade slush.